i feel so bad for my phone

9

i.. ok, i don’t care what anyone says, fictional character or not, saeran deserved better. he didn’t deserve any of the pain and suffering his mother or rika put him through… his whole life was full of sadness and hurt.
this honestly made me cry. he truly loved mc.
i can’t get over that..
v’s route is amazing, but saeran(/ray) absolutely breaks my heart, because i know that we, the players.. can’t save him. and i wish to save saeran more than anything right now.

please save this pure boy, cheritz.

anonymous asked:

How can I tell if I'm actually going through emotional abuse and not just being overemotional?

well, here’s a few signs:

  • if you are scared of somebody 
  • if they call you names, invalidate your feelings, apologize insincerely for upsetting you, or manipulate you
  • if somebody has ever called you “worthless”, “useless”, “good for nothing”, or any other variation of telling you that you don’t have value
  • if you think about all your actions in words in terms of “will this make them mad at me” because they tend to get mad over small things
  • if you feel like you have to change your demeanor and personality to suit them because otherwise they’ll be angry
  • if you can’t set up boundaries like “take time to cool down when you’re mad so you don’t call me names”
  • if you don’t have a space that is just yours for at least some time during each day because they invade it
  • if you fear they will go through your phone, diary, journal, etc
  • if you are asking “am i being emotionally abused” that’s also a pretty big indicator that you are
The Lovely Prince: Zen

He’s so gorgeous, the gods must’ve created him. And he knows it.

King of selfies. (Will take any opportunity to send you a picture of his god-given looks.)

A narcissist? Yes. But he’s not totally like that. He’s hardworking and caring. Remember that even when he’s supposedly “resting” he still works somehow? His determination is admirable. 

Although contanstly told he was ugly by his family and that being an actor was a stupid idea, he still made it. Zen made his dream a reality and he did it through talent alone. He didn’t receive any sort of financial help or whatnot from others. 

And he also has this side to him, a side only the mc gets to see. Just look at that smile, that smile where his eyes turn into crescent moons and he blushes. So cute.

A true gentleman: 

His phone calls are so sweet and cute. ❤️

Finally gets on good terms with Jumin. "Did you just laugh right now?” 

Loves the MC and will protect her at all costs.

Remember Zen’s “Cinderella” phone call?

“Most women want to be Cinderella, right? But I feel like I’m Cinderella…My parents weren’t bad people, I just grew up struggling a lot. And then I met Prince Charming. Someone who was as strong and as beautiful as that prince. That was you. I’ve always wanted to tell you that. I’ve been bewitched from the first time I saw you, but unlike the fairy godmother’s magic, this spell will last  forever.” 

And:

LOVE HIM PLS

Introduces the MC as his girlfriend to the public after clearing his name from false accusations made by Echo Girl.

Forever the cheesy romantic one.

“…No matter how far apart we are, we’ll always think of each other.” 

Happy Birthday, Zen! ♡

wait..

so in the second highlight reel for love yourself you know how yoongi’s phone buzzes at the end of the video, right? Because it’s ringing?

but..

isn’t his phone on.. silent?

EDIT: oKaY YES I KNOW IM SLOW AND STUPID OKAY HAKJDHASF

MY PHONE DOESN’T VIBRATE ON SILENT BC I TURNED THAT ANNOYING SHIT OFF SO I WAS LIKE “OH SHIT HAHAHAH LMAO!!!!!!” BUT NOW I FEEL STUPID BC I REALIZE THAT YOUR PHONE CAN VIBRATE WHILE ON SILENT IF IT’S NOT TURNED OFF OKAY I KNOW IM SLOW PLS STOP MAKING ME FEEL BAD NOW

:( let your girl live.

- Admin Storm

Inexorable (2)

Plot: How does is feel to be arranged to be married to a cocky, arrogant Mafia leader? Once you look at his face, you think you’re lucky, but then he opens his mouth.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, (eventual) smut, Mafia au!

Notes: Welp, since so many of you asked for it, here is a part two!! There are two other stories which need a continuation as well, so I might keep requests closed for a while.. Sorry about that. I hope you don’t mind. Feel free to ask me questions, though! Ya’ll are so nice to me! 2,053 Words

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (FINAL)

The ride to the vacation home wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Your husband actually gave you the space you needed. There were brief glares exchanged between the two of you, a whole lot of drinking, and forced slumber – it was a 3 hour ride, after all. 

When the both of you had finally reached, the luggage was taken out by the bodyguards who had come along, and brought to your huge master bedroom. It was twice the size of your father’s office – if not, bigger – the bed was king-sized, and adorned with silk sheets. The walk-in wardrobe was already stacked with clothes for both sexes, making you wonder why you had even brought luggage in the first place.

“Too small, honestly,” Jungkook commented, plopping down on the couch by the fireplace. “My room is bigger than this.”

There he was, ruining the moment again. It was a good thing you were too exhausted to fight with him; but that didn’t mask over the fact that you still wanted to knock him out.

“Brat..” 

Keep reading

1. I’m scared. I’m scared that everything I felt for you will never go away and I’m scared that I made our love story up in my head. I know I’m a bit of an exaggerater and I like the pain, but I’m sick of waking up to a bloody mouth every morning. I can’t stop biting my tongue in my sleep, but it’s the only way to keep me from screaming your name in the middle of the night.
2. I take every chance I get to wish for your name to pop up on my phone. But I wish for a lot more than just that. I wish I would have answered your call. I wish I would have asked you to lay down with me. I wish you wouldn’t have left.
3. I’m suffocating in my own skin. I can’t breathe without feeling your hand on my cheek, your lips on mine, your head on my shoulder. They say it takes two weeks for your skin cells to replace themselves, but it’s been two months and I can still feel you.
4. Sometimes I think that if I had seen you one more time, things would be different. Maybe I’d be falling asleep to the sound of your voice on the phone instead of choking on my tears. Maybe I’d be sneaking out to kiss you goodnight instead of sneaking out to kiss a stranger so I could forget you. Maybe you wouldn’t have left.
—  I know heartbreak hurts, but I didn’t think it would be this bad

Fun Moments With Autism™ (*sarcasm*):

“wow you’re so rude”

“what are you upset about?”

“you have a serious case of Resting Bitch Face haha”

**

*only realizes social faux-pas 3 days later when someone points it out to me*

**

 [randomsong] (10 hours)

**
*paces around room, consumed w/ rage bc of minor change in routine* 

**
“why would i order something different to eat if i already know what i like??? what do you mean i’ve eaten the same 2 dishes for a month?”

**

me: *doesn’t understand innuendo/dirty joke*

friend: “omg you’re SO INNOCENT lmao”

**

me: *watching asmr, squeezing play-doh, touching random objects for hours, while playing w/ a mermaid pillow, flapping hands and jumping* ummmmm what is this stimming you speak of?

**

*overwhelmed by my burning love for my SpIn* … when will i be free…

**

relative: “we almost never talk. sometimes i wonder if you actually love me”

me: *confused and heartbroken bc i thought that my feelings were obvious*

**

“why are you so weird”

“you need to be more friendly”

“omg rou’re SO antisocial”

“stop doing this you look stupid”

“do you have photographic memory?”

“i don’t understand why you’re struggling w/ this it’s so simple”

**
*talks non-stop abt my SpIn* *only afterwards realizes that my audience might not care abt the thing as much as i do*

**
“what difference does it even make if the dirty dishes are close to the clean ones???”

**

*has to order something/have a ordinary social interaction/talk to someone* *practices what to say beforehand*

**

“why are you always in the dark? why do you have your phone/notebook brightness so low? don’t you know it’s bad for your eyes?”

**

*goes on vacation* *feels lost w/o the routine provided by school/college/extracurricular activities*

Operation Cobra-Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead x reader
Description: reader is in love with Jughead. Jughead is with Betty.
Warnings: SAD SAD SAD ANGST I’m on my way to the hospital to take my mom and I was feeling this after seeing a spoiler from 1x06 sigh
THIS HAS 4,274 WORDS AND IT TOOK ME FOUR DAYS CAN YOU BELIEVE
—————————

I watched it happen from the very beginning. I noticed the very first time Jughead looked at her differently, the very first time he blushed when she complimented him, the very first time Jughead showed signs of jealousy when Trevor had asked her out. I watched it all unfold from the very beginning.
When Jughead told me he and Betty kissed, I did my best to be the extremely supportive best friend, convincing him to show the pretty blonde he was interested in her. When he did, I helped him plan the entire date out, from where to when, to picking his outfit out for him since he was absolutely helpless when it came to dating. I smoothed out the shoulders of his shirt, fixed his beanie, and sent him on his way.

That night, when he came back to my house to replay all the highlights of his date, he had a smile on his face almost the entire time. It was something I had only seen a handful of times, so even though my heart was breaking, I was still happy that something made him smile this big, even if it wasn’t with me.
When Jughead and Betty started dating, I began to slowly lose my best friend. He and Betty were always going together on the “super sleuth” cases, and I was hardly ever invited despite being the graphic designer and editor for The Blue and Gold. It didn’t bother me though, because I figured I would just see Jughead at Pop’s. I was wrong.

Jughead and Betty liked their alone time. They hardly ever invited us to hang out with them, and when we did, the rest of us felt like we were intruding. If I did have any alone time with Jug, his nose was in his phone, texting Betty the whole time. As supportive as I tried to be for the both of them, I was tired of pretending. All I ever did was pretend.

I walked in to the blue and gold after school, the room vacant. Jughead had probably waited for Betty outside of her history class so they could walk together to the newsroom; he used to do that with me all the time.
I sighed, sitting down at one of the seats in the room and pulling out my laptop. I set it on the desk and began designing the cover for this week’s newspaper.

Eventually, Jughead and Betty showed up, not even noticing I had been in the room. They were chatting about something, both blushing and bumping each other playfully. I mentally rolled my eyes and kept my nose in my laptop, not wanting to watch them be all lovey-dovey or whatever. A minute passed, which turned in to five, and then ten, and then fifteen, and by this time I was beyond upset. Neither had said a word to me at all.

I finished the designs for the paper and quietly closed my laptop, zipping open my bag and stuffing it in before lifting it over my shoulder. I stood up, my chair emitting a sharp noise as the heel of the object scraped against the old tile floor. Jughead and Betty’s heads turned at the sound, watching me push my chair back in.

“Oh my gosh, y/n! When did you come in?” Betty asked. I know she didn’t mean it in a rude way whatsoever, she was one of my best friends, but it angered me. Deciding to keep my anger bottled in, I acted like I didn’t hear her, making my way towards the door of the classroom. I walked out, making my way down the hall.

“Y/n! Wait!” Jughead called my name, and a hand grabbed my shoulder, turning me around.

“What’s wrong?” Jughead inquired, his hand sliding down my arm to go to my wrist. I yanked my body back lightly, looking at him in surprise and disgust.

What’s wrong?” I repeated, my tone of voice obviously showing signs of outrage at this point. “Jughead, if you don’t know what’s wrong right now, then I guess we aren’t as close as I thought we were.” I turned away from him, walking down the hallway again.

Jughead grabbed my shoulder again, turning me and grabbing my hand.
“Don’t say that.” Jughead spoke softly, his jaw clenching.

Really? Jughead, you did not notice I was in the room for fifteen minutes! You did not become aware of my presence in the slightest! And that isn’t even the first time!” I screamed, shoving him away from me harshly. Jughead stumbled back, frozen in shock by what I had just done.

“You don’t even care about me anymore! I don’t even exist to you!” My fingers dug in to my palms as I yelled at him.

“So yeah, we aren’t as close as I thought we were. In fact, I’ve never been farther apart from you.” I turned, walking away again.

“y/n!“ Jughead called my name and I stopped.

"Don’t, Jughead.” I cut him off, turning to face him one more time. “For somebody who claims to be an amazing observer, you sure are pretty damn oblivious.” I walked down the hallway of the empty school, turning a corner and making my way home.

——————————————————-

It was 5:39 when my phone rang, interrupting me from my moping over Jughead and Betty. I had stayed home from school the past few days, blaming it on how “sick” I had been feeling, which was bullshit, but only I knew it was bullshit. Or so I thought.

“Hey Ronnie.” I answered the phone.” Now’s not a good time- “

“Too fucking bad, princess. Get your ass up, I’m here.” I heard a knock at my door downstairs and Veronica hung up. I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around me, rubbing at my nose a bit to make it look red and grabbed a box of tissues. I wadded a couple up and threw them in the trash so my fake sick story would still be believable.

I padded downstairs slowly, hearing the incessant knocking and ringing of my doorbell. I took a deep breath before answering the door. There stood one of my best friends, hands on her hips and an irritated look on her face.

“Alright, time to stop moping and start moving on.” The black-haired girl stepped in to my house, closing the door and pointing upstairs.

“Who said I was moping?” I fired back, dragging myself up the stairs.

“Oh, come on y/n! You may be able to fool Archie, Betty, Jughead, and the rest of the entire world, but you can’t fool me. I know you aren’t sick, I know you and Jughead fought, I know you like Jughead. Its written all over you!” Veronica flung open the door to my room and marched to my closet, digging through it like a wild dog.” It’s kinda sick, actually. You look at him with literal heart eyes.Honestly, I would have gone for somebody a little more chiseled, but hey, we all got our own kinks- “

“Ronnie.” I cut off her incessant rambling, “Why are you knee-deep in my clothes?”

“Because, sweetheart.” Ronnie stuck her head out of my closet.” There’s a party tonight, and Jughead and my future wife are going, and we are going to show those two idiots who they really belong with.” Ronnie went back in to my closet, holding up numerous amounts of dresses, skirts, and eye-catching tops.

“Jughead is going to a party?” I queried, unconvinced.

“Yeah, it’s a thing with the cheerleaders at Cheryl’s, an Jughead is going to be the ‘supportive boyfriend’ or whatever.” Veronica scoffed at her own words, adding mocking quotations with her fingers before going back to digging in my closet.

“They’re probably going for more clues about Jason.” I mumbled, my mind drifting away a bit.

“For someone who only wears like, 4 outfits, you sure do have a lot of clothes.” Ronnie commented, pulling out a dress and examining it before hanging it back up.

“My mom tries.” I sighed, flopping back down on the bed.

“Oh, no you don’t. Get your happy ass up and get in the shower. You look terrible, which is weird for me, because you usually look incredibly fuckable.”

“Wow, thanks Ronnie.” I spat back, sarcasm laced in my tone. I got up and grabbed a towel from my drawer, walking in to my bathroom and taking a quick shower. I shaved my legs, as demanded instructed by my friend, and Ronnie did my makeup and hair, curling it and putting it up in a pretty half-do. I admired Ronnie’s work, hardly even being able to connect this me with the person that sat in my bed this morning, dark circles under her eyes and her hair in a knotty bun. She had also found a long sleeved black dress that came down to my knees, tucked away in my closet somewhere

Ronnie had brought over a dress for herself to change in to, and slipped on her shoes. She looked up and our eyes met in the mirror, a distressed look on my face.

“Listen, tonight is for us, okay?” Ronnie rested her hand on my shoulders, turning my chair so I faced her.” I’ve been sitting around and moping too, trust me, but we shouldn’t mope. We deserve so much better, alright? So, let’s just go out and have fun. We deserve that much, alright?” Ronnie held out her hand and I took it, pulling myself up and letting my arms go around her neck to embrace her. We both grabbed our purses and linked arms before walking down the stairs of my house and out my door.
——————————————————–
“Ronnie, I don’t think I can do this.” I stood at the front door of the house, my heart racing.” I really can’t do this.” I turned away from the building, wringing my hands out in front of me.” I’ve been doing it for so long, and I don’t think I can pretend any more, and- “

“Y/n!” Ronnie grabbed my hands, holing them in between hers.” You can do this, ok? You’re y/n freaking l/n!! You are one of the strongest women I know, and you are fierce! You can’t let Jughead, or Betty, or anyone get to you! Don’t let them ruin your moment, ok? Because you are looking hot as hell- “Ronnie lifted one of my hands, twirling me in front of her, and I giggled- “And I’ll be damned if I let you let them mess with that.” I hugged Ronnie tightly before she linked my arm with hers and we walked in to the Blossom mansion.

The music wasn’t too loud, which was a kind gesture for my sensitive ears. Cheryl had already roped together some kids for a game of spin the bottle, and I had spotted Archie, Betty, and Jughead near a corner of the room. Ronnie had already gotten me away from the sight, pulling me to the kitchen. I only grabbed a bottle of sweet tea, ignoring the alcohol that lined the counter. Veronica did as well, unsurprisingly. Veronica was a very old-school classy person. If she did drink, it was usually only one glass, and something very light, as I had found out one night that I had slept over at her house.

“There’s my girls!” Kevin wrapped each arm around Veronica and I’s shoulders. “Operation ‘avoid Jughead and Betty because they’re little whores who have been ignoring us to suck each other’s faces’ has commenced!” I laughed at Kevin, giving him a weird look for the name he had chosen.

“Lets just call it Operation Cobra, you know, for short.” Veronica suggested.The three of us made our way to the middle of the dance floor ignoring our other friends. It was obvious Veronica was laughing and talking at a bit of a higher volume, as well as being extra touchy and flirty to get the attention of our friends. I didn’t so much as glance at Jughead, because I knew that once I did, it was game over, and I would be running home and hiding under my covers.
After a little while, I went to find a quiet place in the house, wanting to be alone. Parties weren’t really my thing, so I didn’t understand why I even agreed to go, but to be fair I was having a nice time

I sat on Cheryl’s back porch, my legs swinging off the edge as I looked out at her backyard. The graveyard with all her relatives didn’t really help boost my happiness, but at least I had gotten away from the incessant bass drops the music was giving off.

“Thought you were sick.” I turned my head to see Jughead leaning against the wall, legs and arms both crossed. My heart started beating wildly and I felt a lump in my throat.

“Thought you didn’t like parties.” I retorted, turning my head back around to face away from him.

“Touché.” I felt Jughead’s presence as he sat down next to me, our thighs brushing together. For a couple minutes, I didn’t say anything, scared that if I did I would burst in to tears.

“You look really, uh, nice tonight.” Jughead looked me up and down and I raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, not that you don’t look nice all the time, because you do.” Jughead scratched the back of his neck.” Because you know, you’re really beautiful, but you already know that I think that, because you know, you’re my best friend, and uh… yeah.” Jughead looked away

“You know, I’m not a mind reader.” Jughead chuckled lightly. I could see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye. I did my best to ignore him, crossing my arms and keeping my gaze away from his.

“Look- “Jughead gulped audibly, hesitating before lifting his hand and resting it on my shoulder.” I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, or what you’re dealing with, but I’m here for you- “

Really? Are you really “here for me?” I shrugged his hand off my shoulder, moving to stand up. I was furious at this point.” Jughead, I have talked to you maybe a handful of times since you and Betty started dating! You have cancelled every single one of our plans since then! Every time we’re together working on the blue and gold, you and Betty hardly even notice I’m in the room! – “

My hands went to my temples as I slowly paced back and forth on the deck of the porch. Jughead now stood in front of me, one hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans and the other running his hand down his face in a frustrated motion.

“And maybe I wouldn’t have been so angry about it, if you would have at least showed any sort of remorse, but you don’t! You don’t apologize, you don’t even text me in advance to let me know, you keep me sitting at Pop’s for hours, and you never even show up! I don’t even know why I still do it? What’s the point?” I began to walk past him but jughead held his arm out, stopping me from leaving. His hand grabbed my hip, turning me to face him.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I really am- “

“No you aren’t, Jughead! You aren’t sorry!” I pushed him away from me.” You aren’t sorry! If you were really ‘sorry’, you would have been there for me! You wouldn’t have skipped out on our plans! You wouldn’t have left me waiting all the time! Or you would have at least texted me to tell me you wouldn’t make it! Or even apologize!” I shoved my index finger against his chest, pushing him away from me once more.” But you don’t! You don’t apologize, or even feel any remorse about it, because all you care about is yourself! You don’t care about the consequences of the choices you make, because it doesn’t hurt you!” I screamed, tears streaming down my face as I ended my rant. Jughead had a shocked face on his look, as if he was surprised that I had just stood up for myself. I couldn’t blame him. All I ever did was let people use me as their personal door mat. I didn’t want to be that person anymore.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I do care about you, it’s just, I- “

“Save it, Jughead!” I shoved past him, running back in to the house and out the front door. I heard calls from my best friend and turned around to see Veronica and Kevin.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Veronica stood in front of me, blocking me from walking down the path towards the gate to leave Cheryl’s home. Her hands wrapped around my arms, stopping me from moving.” What’s wrong, what happened?”

“What do you think happened, Ronnie?” I spoke loudly, my hands moving wildly in front of me.” Jughead is an idiot! That’s what happened!” Kevin now stood beside Ronnie, and her hands went to my face, wiping away the tears. “I’m in love with a fucking idiot! That’s what happened!”

“I know sweetheart, I know.” Veronica hugged me tightly.

“He doesn’t care, Ronnie. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that he hurt me, or anything. It doesn’t matter.” I moved to look at her again.” Why do I have to be in love with him? It could have been anybody else! Why him?”

“I don’t know, honey, he’s a jerk, I don’t know why he- “Ronnie cut herself off, staring off behind me. I turned around to see Jughead standing ten feet away, arms at his sides and his lips parted slightly.

“Did you say you’re in love with me?” Jughead looked at me with wide eyes, waiting for an answer. I shook my head, diving between Ronnie and Kevin and running towards the gate. Jughead began to follow me, but Kevin and Ronnie held him back, letting me slip away.
————————————————–
I was halfway down the trek to my house when I passed by the Riverdale park. I sighed, steering off the sidewalk and towards the big dome-shaped jungle gym. I was just going to mope at home anyways, so I wasn’t in a hurry to get there.

I dropped my heels to the ground next to me, swinging my purse over my shoulder and climbing up to the top. I sat down in the middle, the solid platform cold against my skin. I didn’t care though. I pulled out my phone, ignoring any notifications I had. I checked Instagram, scrolling through Jughead’s account. I switched over to Betty’s, seeing multiple photos of her and Jughead. I didn’t exactly know why I was forcing myself to look at these, but I was.

I shut my phone off, wrapping my arms around my body. I hadn’t brought a jacket, another thing to beat myself up over. I looked around the park, my eyes eventually catching someone else’s. Jughead.

“What are you doing up there?” Jughead looked up at me, his hands in his pockets.

“I like it up here.” I defended.

“Can you come down?” Jughead asked me.

“No.” I protested.

“Then I’m coming up.” Jughead sighed, beginning to climb the structure. I scrambled to grab my purse, trying to get off as fast as I could, but it was too late. Jughead had climbed up, grabbing the bars on each side of my body and hovering so my lower body was trapped under his. He looked up at me, his chest heaving from climbing up as fast as he could, mixed with the sting of the cold weather. Our breaths could be seen in the winter air, mixing with each other and disappearing. I stared at Jughead, waiting for him to say something.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh yeah, hold on. Let me ruin my closest friendship real quick by telling him I have super hardcore feelings for him when he’s dating someone else!” I spat sarcastically.

“Ok, that’s fair.”

“Whatever, Jughead, just let me out.” I started to shuffle under his body, planning to duck under his arm, but he blocked me, climbing farther up. We were now eye level, his face only inches from mine. Jughead stared at me, not saying anything.

“Are you gonna say something?” I asked him, my eyes flickering between his.

“I don’t know what to say.” Jughead admitted. I rolled my eyes, pushing him so I could get out from under him. Apparently, I had pushed too hard, because next thing I knew, the boy lost his balance, stumbling off the bars and falling in to the grass on his back. I gasped, shouting his name before climbing down quickly and jumping off the last few bars.

“Jughead! Are you ok!” Jughead groaned in response, sitting up and rubbing his head. I dropped on to my knees beside him, my shoulders on his hands.

“Peachy.” He answered sarcastically. I rolled my eyes, standing up and brushing the dirt off my dress.

“Whatever, I’m going home- “

“Did you know Veronica liked Betty?” I spun around, looking at Jughead.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Jughead sighed, standing up. “And Veronica told her. Turns out, a big part of the reason Betty was dating me was to try and get over her, and convince herself she wasn’t gay. When Ronnie told her, she broke it off with me.” Jughead chuckled half-heartedly.

“Jug, I’m sorry.” Sympathy was laced in my voice. I stepped back toward him, patting his shoulder with my hand.

“It’s ok, really. I was dating her for kind of the same reason as well.” Jughead looked up at me, his eyes locking with mine.” You see, there’s this girl that I really like, and she’s been my best friend for quite a while.” My breath hitched in my throat, my hand leaving Jughead’s shoulder.” I’ve been kind of a shit friend to her, and I haven’t really been hanging out with her, more like avoiding her. It’s a really shitty thing to do, and I feel, like, really, really shitty about it.”

“Jughead, I, I can’t…” I turned back towards the dome jungle gym, walking towards my shoes. I felt Jughead’s hand on my shoulder and then my back was against the monkey bars, my body trapped by Jughead’s.

“I didn’t want to lose you.” Jughead admitted.” You’re everything to me, and I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. When I started dating Betty, I thought it would help me get over you, and then I could stop feeling the way I felt.” Jughead looked me in the eyes, his face no more than a few inches away from mine once again.” I watched what happened to my parents, and yours. They were just like us. They were best friends, and…” Jughead hung his head, cutting off his own words.

“Jughead.” I reached my hands up to cup his face, lifting his head to look at me.” We aren’t our parents, ok?” My thumb brushed against his cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen down his face. Jughead smiled, his eyes flickering down to my lips, and mine doing the same.

“I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you too.” I laughed lightly, my arms wrapping around his neck. Jughead’s arms went to my waist, pulling me flush in to his body before he pressed his lips to mine. I sighed in to the kiss, feeling relief that Jughead felt the same way about me as I did him.

Jughead bit gently at my bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth as he broke the kiss. I giggled, burying my face in to the crook of Jughead’s neck.
—————————————————–
“I see my work did some justice.” I heard Ronnie call out. Jughead and I turned around on the sidewalk we had been on to see our friends.

“We have been looking everywhere for you guys! Where were you!” Archie called out, jogging towards us.

“Oh, you know, climbing jungle gyms, pushing Jughead off them, the usual.” I joked, looking up at Jughead. He smiled, rolling his eyes.
Ronnie and Betty walked up to us, hands held together.

“Hey, nothings gonna be… awkward, right?” Betty asked, looking at Jughead and I.

“No, Betts, everything’s good.” Jughead looked down at me, squeezing my hand.

“Ok, good.” Betty rested her hand on Jughead’s shoulder giving it a friendly squeeze before dropping it.

“Wait, so, you two?” Archie asked, looking at Ronnie and Betty, who nodded.

“And you two?” Archie looked at Jughead and I. Jughead nodded and I blushed, hiding in his side. Jughead wrapped an arm around my waist, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“Honestly, I’m not surprised.” Kevin shrugged, walking towards us.

“Hey, we’re all heading to Pop’s, you coming?” Archie asked Jug and I.

“Archibald Andrews, do you ever think I would turn down a burger and fries from our ever so famous chock-lit shoppe?” I put a hand over my chest in mock offense.

“Of course you and Jughead are together, why was I even surprised.” Archie rolled his eyes, walking away from us.

“That obvious, huh?” Jughead spoke aloud, looking down at me.

“Yep.”

6

random phone screencaps of Lin in Do No Harm because I love this character a lot and he deserved so much better

Positive Coping Thoughts

For those who have been emotionally neglected or abused, your head may be filled to the brim with negative thoughts about yourself and the world around you. As I’ve emphasized in my past posts, these negative thoughts come from how you were treated or raised growing up. While you are working toward recovery, it is essential to add some positive coping thoughts to your regular practice. Here are some good positive coping thoughts to tell yourself during times when you become triggered… many of them specialized for those who are healing from emotional abuse/neglect:

I am important and worthy. (Even if my family tried to brainwash me otherwise).

I am ALWAYS deserving of love and respect.

I am a survivor.

The fact I am standing here today is proof of my unquestionable strength.

I will continue to move forward in life with my strength.

I will not tolerate disrespect, violence, or disregard in any of my relationships.

I do not need to maintain relationships with people who do not prioritize me or who actively hurt me.

It is completely okay to cut people out of my life. 

I NEED to learn how to cut people out of my life, as it is a part of my healthy recovery.

I will not overwork myself in my relationships, and give more than I am receiving.

I deserve to receive.

I will strive to live my life with balance.

It is okay to say no.

I don’t need to answer or respond to anyone’s negative thoughts or opinions.

Someone’s negativity is not mine to hold; it is theirs.

It is okay to make mistakes. I am only human. We all make mistakes.

I may feel bad about myself now, but that is only because I have never gotten the chance to discover who I really am.

I deserved so much more than what my parents/family gave me.

I will commit to rising above my parents’/family’s negativity, in order to actualize my true self.

From this point on, I refuse to let anyone hold me back, including my parents/family/abuser.

You can also make up your own positive coping thoughts, but write them down in your journal or put it in your phone–whatever helps you. And pull them out when you need a reminder. It’ll take time to shift your thinking, so expect that, but if you make your positive coping thoughts into a habit, I guarantee you that your mind will eventually start to shift! ♥

"Being Fuckable Does Not Mean Being Date-able." [Dylan O’brien] Pt. 1

THANK YOU FOR 1k FOLLOWERS GUYS!!!! This is probably the last request I’ll ever do. And it’s from a long time ago. Sorry. Requests kind of give me writers block because of the certain plot that has to go with it so forgive me if I never got to yours, but enjoy this last one because after this I will just write what comes to mind! MY BOX IS STILL OPEN FOR COMMENTS OR QUESTIONS THOUGH!!! 

PART 2
anon: Heyyy buddy I think you writing is amazing could you do one where the reader is drunk and at a party Dylan had to take her home and she accidentally tells him that she likes him then the morning after he confronts her about it.

My eyes were very focused on my ipad settled below my chin. Laying on my stomach, I felt my shoulders begin to cramp. I grabbed my ipad and laid my back on the pillows trying to desperately finish the story before I start to get ready for my plans later. I had a guilty pleasure, it was reading dirty stories, Dylan somehow never teased me about it, but from time to time he did laugh a little. 

“Are you reading smut again?” Dylan’s voice rang through my ears. I forgot he was beside me now curiously looking over to see what I was doing. 

“Yes and?” He put his hands up in defense as his eyebrows worked their way closer to each other.

“Nothing Rachel Green.”

“Shut up Joey.” I said responding to his ‘Friends’ reference, the episode where Joey found out Rachel was reading a dirty book. My eyes scanned the paragraphs as I was trying to get back to where I was, “How come you read smut when you literally can get sex whenever you can, “

My attention was very much now on him already knowing what was coming. His eyes wandered and paused directly at my lips. It’s like he realized his stare was starting to affect me that he tilted his eyes back to mine.

“Uh, what I mean is that I’ve seen you do it.” He explained in order for me to not interpret it wrong.

Was he serious? Well because Dylan, you are my best friend, and when I read these books I picture you in them with me but I know fucking your best friend would be weird for you. 

That’s what I should of said, but instead the words jumbled up into,

 “Because it’s entertaining to see the climax and story of the couple right before they fuck, and even staying for the resolution after.” I stated, not even bothering to look at him any longer with the intent of wanting to jump every bone of his body as I kept reading further.

I could see his hands intertwining together as both of them were playing around with each other between his legs. His eyes kept directing at me as if waiting for me to answer sincerely.

“Okay because I have needs Dylan! Did you really want me to say that I get horny a lot?” I rolled my eyes as his smile plastered pure satisfaction after I fezzed up.

“But horny of what? Just go have sex? There’s something you’re not telling me here.” He paused.

 “Better yet,  just fuck me.” he shrugged. He always flirted as a joke so casually  and it irritated the hell out of me. 

For us, saying, ‘fuck me’ is a regular one on one jokingly flirting with each other thing. We always joke sexually but lately it was becoming hard for me to just act like I didn’t want him to pound into me. I had it bad for my ‘best friend’. 

These love stories with smut in them focused on two things I wanted most, Dylan’s affection and his- well, dick. I didn’t want to be just friends anymore, I wanted something real with him. I read the cliche wattpad books with the plot of best friends falling for each other, pathetic in my situation, believe me, I know.

“No.” I rolled my eyes for the second time hinting at him to stop and wasn’t in the mood for casual jokes.

“You wouldn’t fuck me?” His hand went over his chest pretending to be insulted. I was getting really sick of this, I was ready to snap. He wanted to play? Alright Let’s play.

I pressed the button on the corner of my ipad for it to rest, I could feel stare behind me as he watched me place it on the night stand. All the attention was on him now,

“You know, what? I wouldn’t mind doing something right now. And since you keep interrupting me..” His curious eyes followed my actions.

“Let’s have sex.” I could of sworn that if he had water right now he would spit it right out. His eyes were left in shock to what I had just mentioned which caused me to smirk. I never responded to his jokes, I usually just laughed or rolled my eyes, but it was annoying me now. He needed to learn a lesson.

 After several rapid blinks he managed to let out a stutter, “I- do you like me?” A huge smile on his face suddenly appeared, His hand started to caress my cheek. Did he think I was joking?

His question caught me by surprise so I stepped back a little. I was terribly afraid of his rejection. If he didn’t feel the same way, everything would be ruined. 

“What? No!” I laughed it off, “Dylan, I said I would fuck you, because let’s admit it, you are hot. But an emotional attachment? Hell no. You’re my best friend?” That is not what I wanted to say at all, but I did not want to be humiliated. His face dropped and went back to a careless expression, his eyes turned darker and they broke contact with mine as his hand extracted from my face.

“Being fuck-able does not mean being date-able.” I leaned forward as I made my way across him. My legs were now snaking around his waist as he was sitting down gasping at my every movement as I sat down on him quickly.

 “What’s wrong? Tired of all the sexual jokes?” My lips whispered into to his ear. “Cause I am.” I said lower, “You should put them to the test.” Just as I was about to lean a tad bit close to his lips, his hands grabbed my chin and stopped me.

“Can you just drop it? I get it, I got a taste of my own medicine.” He grabbed my arms in a careful way but shoved me softly off him. He was heading out of my door, as he turned around not even looking at me, suddenly he had such interest in his phone. It’s what he does when he’s mad or annoyed. He avoids eye contact with me and goes on his phone/

“Don’t forget we planned a night out today, I’ll come by at eight.”

And with that he rushed out of my house leaving me utter shock. What was with the sudden attitude? His cold answers really started to made me wonder if I made him uncomfortable with my reaction. He has rejected to fuck me? Of course I wasn’t going though with it but he left before I finished.

It stung so bad. As if I wasn’t good enough to have sex with? My ego was getting to me but I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed of this whole situation. He thought he got a taste of his own medicine? He hasn’t seen the half of it. He wasn’t getting away with embarrassing me that easy.

**

Four hours later passed and It was almost eight. I made sure to look extra tonight, cause I was an extra bitch. The knocks on the door soon startled me. He came twenty minutes later than he said but I was okay with it.

 He was moody again. He stood a few more seconds at the door, “are we leaving?” still typing on his phone.

“Yes, i just need to get my purse and put on lipstick. Are you just gonna stand there and wait?” His eyes shot up and once he got a hold of the sight, he stared up and down at me. I was wearing a short black tight dress as my black heels complimented it. My hair was straightened, and I hardly straighten it. I go more for the curls usually. My make up was the same yet I added wing eyeliner.

He gasped for about ten seconds as he moved his hand up on down his lip. “Why are you wearing that?” He quickly rushed to my couch as he grabbed a cushion and somehow put it on his lap. He was fidgeting a bit, a normal person wouldn’t notice but I just paid too much attention.

“I’m going to try to get fucked tonight, you’re right. I shouldn’t be reading things about it I should just go get the real thing.” I replied coldly.

“You know I was kidding about that. Read all the porn you want.” He winked playfully.

“Cute.” I laughed mockingly. His expression turned cold again as he rolled his eyes. “Fine. Um I’m going to wait in the car.” 

“Kay.” This time I didn’t bother to look back as he left to his car. His annoying mood swings were getting on my nerves.

When we got to the club, Dylan’s grip was hesitant, as if he didn’t want to let me go and enjoy myself. “Let’s go dance!” His eyes landed on my dress again, “ Yeah let’s not. Let’s go get a drink or two first.” His grip was still on my waist.

I could see his protective side coming out, and it was irritating to say the least. “Fine.” I fake smiled to show him I was annoyed. 

Six shots later, it was finally kicking in. I was already heading to the dance floor, I could tell Dylan was watching from a far. His eyes rolled so far back every time he saw me interact with a guy, it was ridiculous.

It didn’t take long before he saw I was a little too drunk that I couldn’t keep up with my feet. “Alright, we should go now.”  He gently intertwined my arm with his as he took us to the exit. 

“Dylan! I was about to get some tonight, now they’re going to think you’re like my boyfriend and not want to talk to me!”

“Good.” He lead us towards his car. “How much did you drink?” I asked as we both got inside.

“I drank other beverages, I’m the designated driver remember.” He said harshly. I didn’t say one word to him the whole ride home, but I could tell we were going to his since it was closer. He was being so rude that every time he spoke, my heart ached a bit more.

The silence wasn’t awkward, he knew when something was bugging me so he just doesn’t add to it.

When the car stopped at his house I was afraid of facing him because there was a tear that escaped my eye and I swiped it quickly off. if I said anything he would still notice because of my shaky voice.

“Y/N.” His voice said from a distance but I blocked it out as I kept looking down at my shoes.

“Hey Y/N. Are you crying?” Dylan scooted closer as he cupped my cheeks. 

“You’ve been so distant this whole day after I made a move on you. I mean I get it, we’re best friends and you’d never go for more than that. You’d never love me the way I love you, but the fact that you don’t see me as a desirable person? It’s worse than punching me in the face.”

 I felt my sadness overcome me as my sleepiness mixed with it. My eyes started to close as my tears still kept streaming out.

“And it hurts Dylan.” I managed to say in my sad, sleepy voice. “It hurts so much because I want to be your everything, and seeing you that disgusted of me just teared me.” And sleep soon consumed my brain I was out with my as the water droplets from my eyes barely started to dry. Guess crying yourself to sleep is a real thing?

Dylan however was very much awake. He was speechless, and he was positive I wasn’t going to remember a thing in the morning.

The confronting will be in the second part!

I’m not writing to you to tell you what you’ve done wrong. No, I think we moved past that point. Today I’m writing to you to tell you what you deserve.

You deserve to love someone who is ready to get lost in your eyes, who embraces your flaws and your quirks, who laughs at your horrible jokes like I did and who smiles in between kisses. You deserve someone who makes you smile so big that your cheeks hurt, someone who picks up the phone for you in the middle of the night and who’s there to hold the pieces of your world together when you feel like everything around you is falling apart.

And I’m so sorry.

I’m so sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted and I’m sorry you weren’t what I expected. I know it’s not my fault and I know it’s not yours. Let’s put the blame on something we can’t control like bad timing or too much work or the weather, maybe? Something that makes us feel less responsible for ending something beautiful. Something that makes us remember a wonderful time for exactly what it was: talking deep into the night, stained coffee cups and dancing in the rain.

Even though it ended (not on good terms, either) I just wanted to wish you well. The happiness we had is the happiness you deserve for the rest of your life. I just wanted you to know. And I hope you never forget on nights that are too short and days that are too long for you to remember.

—  an open letter to you
n.j.
“You’re a terrible father” - Tony Stark x Daughter!reader

Love the idea. And really, I kinda take any requests :D. Thank you for this one, it’s right here, hope you like it :

(My masterlist blog here : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com)

_____________________________________________________________________

It was the twentieth fucking time you tried to call your father, Anthony Stark, and you fell, once again, on his stupid voice saying that he was “too busy to answer” and that he’d “call back” but “probably not”. Damn that man. 

In your entire life on this Earth, you were pretty sure he never picked you up on time somewhere. Never, ever. He was just always late, so much that you came up with a trick of actually telling the wrong times for him to be on time. If something was at 6pm, you’d tell him it was at 4. But even with that trick, he still often managed to be fucking late. Which is why most of the time, your stepmother came to get you. But Pepper, wasn’t available today. 

You smiled, thinking about your “stepmother”. You were so glad she was in your life, being pretty sure that if your dad never had the help, he probably would have lost custody of you before you reach the age of 1…You considered Pepper your real mother. You never met your biological mom as she just dumped you in front of your dad’s house, with a note. One paternity test later, and it was confirmed you were his…You were the first step to his transformation, the first to help him become the man he was today. Better. 

So you grew up with Pepper around. She filled in brilliantly the mother role, even before she actually started dating your father (you remember the day you finally convinced him to just tell her his feelings, and smiled).

Keep reading

6

Alright so I definitely have to talk about this tonight. I’m a very depressed and suicidal person and though my friends are trying all day long to cheer me up , they fail. However , Yoongi changed that. When I see his beautiful smile on my phone lockscreen , I unconsciously smile. His smile is so comforting , I swear it makes me forget about everything around whether it’s good or bad. Also , it’s so cheerful. Tbh , everytime I feel low or sad I stare at his beautiful face and I immediately cheer up. His smile is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen . I swear min yoongi is one of the most beautiful creatures on earth. I’m so blessed to have him in my life , I’m so blessed to know him. Damn yoongi , you’re a legend. Sometimes I just feel like I want to press my lips into his so hard💟 k that was so unrelated to the topic. Ugh I just adore him uk

Hey @sixpenceee I’ve got a matrix ish story that happened super recently
Ok so I was going from my house to the nearest town to meet my boyfriend. The time was about 2:30? I remember counting my change and realising I had the *exact* amount for my ticket - £1.35 - and not a single bit more.
So. I get on the bus. I’m halfway to town in one of the villages between. So I’m about 15 mins away and decide to shut my eyes and quickly have a nap.
Then, I woke up, feeling like I had been asleep for maybe 10 seconds. But no, it was dark outside and I was on a bus heading back towards my house - new ticket, bought at 05:35pm, and I was a stop away from my house.
So I got off. I get really bad anxiety and let me tell you this just threw me the everliving fuck off.
Check my phone, have about 6 missed calls from the boyf. It was almost 9pm.
I don’t know how it happened, how I lost so much time, how I even got more money to get a new ticket, etc etc etc. What also weirds me out is my hair had a different coloured hairband that was way way thicker too. I probably just put it in and forgot but it’s not one that looks familiar.
Not gonna lie, this fucked me up good for the next week or so.

I'll Always Write Back [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: I’ll Always Write Back

Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader

Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen

Requested: by the lovely @the-murphy-family

Summary: Connor and the reader are friends online, but then find out they’re neighbors too. The reader is homeschooled, so she has no way of hearing the rumors about him. They become best buds and hang out with each other everyday and eventually fall in love

A/N: This was waaaayyy longer than I wanted it to be, so my apologizes in advance. Thanks again to @the-murphy-family for such a fantastic prompt, I’m sorry I rushed the exposition so much. I had so much fun writing this! (If you aren’t already following their blog, I highly suggest it).

Warnings: Connor’s potty mouth | First person reader | Fighting Murphy siblings

It was almost bedtime by the time I’d messaged him. I hadn’t planned on it, by any means. We talked after I’d finished my lessons for the day–he’d skipped school, I saw, which I always thought was off considering his mother was home.

I’d changed into my pajamas–just an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts–and had begun to tuck myself into bed when I saw him.

He’d left his blind open tonight, and through the window screen I could see him silhouetted perfectly, all the lights in his room blazing. It was nearing 9:30, so I wasn’t too shocked to find he was still awake. The houses were so close together on this side of town and, from the second story window, there was nothing but a four yard distance between our windows–and a drop nearly twice that length.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring straight ahead, giving me a view of his profile, the sharp angle of his jaw, the thin slope of his nose, and the hard jut of his adam’s apple.

 What startled me enough to give pause was the fact he was unnervingly still, unblinking, staring at something I couldn’t see. He wasn’t working on homework or painting his nails or playing that silly candy crush game on his phone. He was just staring.

Too far away for me to make out his expression, I instead rolled over onto my bed, clicking the lights back on and pulling out my phone, opening up the Chat app we used on the daily.

To: Connor
From: Me

What’s up, buttercup?

I wished I could see him–there were certainly nights we sat by the window and messaged back and forth, but starting out that way would mean he knew I saw him lost in whatever pensive state he’d been in, which more often than not would mean he’d be less than willing to talk. In my lap, my phone buzzed to life.

From: Connor
To: Me

Isn’t past your bedtime or something? 

I snorted, starting my own reply before:

From: Connor
To: Me

Are you having trouble sleeping again?

Swallowing thickly, I immediately replied:

To: Connor
From: Me

No, I’m fine. Just bored, checking to see if you were too :)

I tried to wait, give Connor a moment to compose whatever turmoil he’d been sitting in before I asked how he felt, otherwise I’d get a swift ‘okay’ and the conversation would take a dive bomb south at ridiculous speeds.

From: Connor
To: Me

If it’s nudes you’re looking for, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not in the mood tonight, kiddo

I choked, lunging forward in the bed to muffle my embarrassing squawk into my fist. Thank goodness my bed was out of sight of the window, or I’d have to watch Connor chortling at my less than appropriate reaction to his less than appropriate joke.

Connor and I had only been talking for about two months now, after I’d moved out here five months ago. Well, we’d been talking for nearly the entirety of the five months, but I’d only realized it was Connor not all that long ago.

To: Connor
From: Me

Oh no, whatever will I do without seeing your sculpted, rock-hard abs??? ;)

From: Connor
To: Me

Shut up, jerk off

I cackled into my fist, careful to not wake my siblings that slept in the next room over. It had taken a large amount of time to get used to Connor’s rather blunt personality, to put it pleasantly.  He’d always been candid, of course, ever since the first contact I’d had with him on the Chat app (“You swear you aren’t a pedophile, right? Or my dad? That’d be weird as fuck.”) and it had been thrilling to be with someone so open and ready to talk about things. The way he felt. The things he thought. The fact he was afraid.

We didn’t exchange photos for a long time–and I’d never seen Connor outside the house, other than the on and off times he’d flit across his bedroom window like a haunt, never knew his name–but the second his photo flashed on my screen, I knew. Even in the photo he hadn’t been smiling, the same stoic countenance he always wore.

He’d recognized my photo immediately, and had been less than thrilled. It took convincing–a lot of me showing up at the fence between our yards, very nauseous, promising it hadn’t been a mean joke–but he came around.

From: Connor
To: Me

You sure you’re good? You’re quiet

I smiled softly at my phone screen. It was a rare night when Connor had enough energy to be so concerned about others–it wasn’t his fault, I knew, he was just in a bad spot right now. The fact he could consider my feelings for more than a few moments felt remarkable, flattering. But, most importantly, it meant he was doing okay.

To: Connor
From: Me

I’m fine, pls don’t worry :)

To: Connor
From: Me

Are YOU okay?

From: Connor
To: Me

I’m fine, chill out

I rolled my eyes, unsurprised. Deflect and distract, his usually strategy.

From: Connor
To: Me

Can’t see you rn


From: Connor
To: Me

Come to the window

I sat up quickly, going over to shut out the light to blur my image to him. Combing my messy hair with my fingers, I tugged on my oversized shirt so that it covered my mostly exposed legs before throwing open the window and leaning out.

Connor, across the way, had already thrown his window open and was halfway leaning out, his face scrunched in confusion. He tapped something out on his phone, pausing every so often to tuck back the dark locks falling into his face. His other arm was braced on the window ledge, the sleeve of his hoodie pushed up to expose his bare forearms to moonlight, glowing a soft snow hue in the dark. My phone buzzed as he glanced back up at me with an open expression.

From: Connor
To: Me

Turn on the light, dumbass, I can barely see you

I smiled up at him, putting my phone aside to shake my head ‘no’. He frowned, slumping down a little more against the window, his chest pressed to the ledge, before holding his arms up in a 'why not?’ and flipping me the bird.

I typed out a quick response to let him know that my parents thought I was asleep. I watched him read the text, watched his eyebrows furrowed over his deep-set slate eyes, saw him frown, heard him swear under his breath. I bit back a chuckle as he carded his hand through his hair in frustration several times.

I vaguely wondered why this made so little sense–most of our conversation up to this point had been centric of me, but Connor was visibly frustrated (not that he wasn’t frequently) and earlier he’d seemed much to absent to not be upset about something. My phone buzzed to life, casting a blue glow across my face, and I saw Connor’s face stretch in recognition, pleased to make out my expression in the dark.

From: Connor
To: Me

Meet me in the pool house

My heart jackhammered in my chest at the thought of it–sneaking out. He was crazy, he had to be. He knew my parents would murder me for being up this late, let alone sneaking out, and worst of all, meeting a boy.
Not just a boy. Connor.

I felt him watching me from across the divide, at the edge of my vision and could make out where he leaned against the window, propped up on his elbows and head in his hands, hair hanging in his face. Glancing up, meeting his stony gaze, I nodded.

It was immediate, earning a reaction from him. Biting back my chuckle, he scrambled up from where he kneeled against the window ledge, his whole face smiling as he ran from his window without looking back. He was already standing in his backyard, waving wildly before I’d even departed from the window.

I decided against redressing or doing my hair–Connor was waiting and the quicker I got out there the quicker I got back without alerting my parents to my absence. Besides, it was probably too dark in the pool shed for Connor to make out my bare face and frizzy hair anyway, let alone the hair on my legs and the stretch marks on my thighs. As if Connor had the nerve to look to begin with, I snorted.

Sneaking out was surprisingly easy, and Connor had left the gate cracked just enough for me to slip in between. The door to the pool shed–just a small building, hardly smaller than my bedroom, at the edge of the yard–was slightly ajar, and I saw quick movements coming from inside.

Once in the doorway, clicking the door shut behind myself, I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me.

“Connor?” I called, spinning in the dark so that my back rested against the door, ready to exit if necessary. My eyes searched the dark frantically–in vain. There was a small window, vaguely fogged from years of neglect that allowed a slim moon beam to shine in on a small pile of towels and blankets, a little bean bag chair. Connor had told me not too long ago he and Zoe hadn’t played in here for years, which meant it held secrets long forgotten by either of the Murphy children. I felt honored to be inside it.

“Hey,” he breathed, and though I could see him, I recognized his soft voice just to the right side of me, breathy and soft. It’s too dark to make him out, and I noticed he’s careful not to touch me, but I can feel his breath against my ear, warm despite the fact it’s chilly for a June night. I felt goosebumps pimpling along my legs, making the hair stand up on end. I silently thanked the universe for giving me the gift of darkness to veil myself in.

“Feels like it might rain,” I sighed, turning toward the sound of him, the warmth. My bare arms brushed something–maybe cotton, maybe not–but it pulled back immediately away from me, accompanied by a quick intake of breath.

“Christ, don’t talk about the weather,” Connor hissed into the dark, a hard thunk resonating through the shed where he must have leaned his head against the wall, a bit too forcefully. How very Connor of him. “That’s the kind of shit my dad says in the car when he acts like he’s uncomfortable to be near me for more than ten minutes at a time.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, leaning away, and turning to gingerly pick my way across the shed–it was getting late now and I was already beginning to get tired. Connor may be able to stay up until the early morning hours, but I definitely couldn’t be trusted to be awake at eleven.

“Fuck, don’t be sorry, I just meant–shit,” he growled, and I heard another sharp pang against the steel inside of the shed–he’d hit something with his fist, if the metallic clink of what I assumed to be his ring against the sheet metal was any indication.

I stumbled my way to the beanbag chair, collapsing, and letting myself sink into. It smelled a little like chlorine and sun-in hair dye, but it was soft and warm, almost the size of a double bed. I wiggled upright, squinting again to see Connor in the dark now that I took up the only patch of moonlight in the building.

“You aren’t feeling alright, are you?” I asked softly, resting my cheek against the faux suede of the chair, struggling to keep my eyes open. There was a pause.

“That’s not why I asked you over,” he sighed in his tennor, stomping across the room, picking his way, until he flopped down beside me, displacing the insides of the chair and nearly rolling me out of it.

He reached forward with another soft swear, grabbing my shoulder blades to yank me back onto the bean bag bed, rolling me close so that I wouldn’t fall again. I laughed, unsure what was so funny–maybe it was the fact I’d nearly catapulted out of the chair due to all five pounds of Connor “Ribcage” Murphy, or the current situation, my face pressed against the soft cotton of his hoodie, his heartbeat steady and strong against my cheek. I didn’t move away.

To my surprise, Connor didn’t move away either, just kept both arms wrapped around me, hands firmly in place of my scapula as if scared to dip any lower. I felt the dip of his chin against my temple, felt his lips against my scalp.

“Aren’t you freezing?” He whispered, rubbing quick circles between my shoulder blades.

“Quit dodging my question, Con,” I hissed, beginning to pull away before Connor tightened his grip–surprisingly strong for a boy with such lithe wrists.

“But you are cold,” he muttered, slipping one hand down from my shoulder to my bare arms, rubbing in quick patterns there, attempting to make some sort of friction between us.

God, my parents would kill me if they saw me now.

I want to he clear I wasn’t under any pretenses–this wasn’t, er, Connor hadn’t called me out here so that we could, well–

“I’m fine, Connor,” I promised, taking advantage of the moment to fold my arms against him, trapping them between the heat of our bodies, letting my cheek rest idly against his chest. Connor didn’t like me, I knew, but in the dark shed…well, it was easy to pretend.

It was always easy to pretend to be someone else with Connor.

“You wanna talk about what’s going on with you right now?” I said with a false bravado, thumping his chest lightly with my fist. “You can’t hide anything from me, Connor Murphy. I know you too well.”

“You don’t know anything, dumbass,” he grumbled half-heartedly, and I felt him lean forward to press his face into my hair. “You don’t know shit.”

“So you’re lying to me?” I baited with a smile, tapping his chest, feeling his frustrated sigh and rewarding him with a light laugh. “I didn’t think so. I’m here for you, you know.”

“I know,” he growled, sighing heavily, taking one hand off my back to push his hair away, before letting me go entirely to roll onto his back. His thin fingers covered his face, the black fingernails scratching frustratedly against his pale face. “I just–I don’t, I don’t know how to–shit.”

I leaned forward to tap his chest again, letting him know I was here. “Just talk it out. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

He shocked me by reaching forward with one hand, knotting his fingers with my own and letting them linger against his chest. I was grateful he couldn’t make out my expression from his position, grateful for the fact he couldn’t feel my face flush. I’d never been this close with a boy in my life, and Connor knew that. He wasn’t being fair, and I was sure he knew that too.

Unless he didn’t. Connor had a bad habit of selling himself short. I bit back the urge to press a kiss to his bony knuckles.

“I know,” he whispered, voice suddenly hoarse. He was worse than I thought. “Um, it’s harder now? I guess. I trust you–I mean, I always trusted you. It’s um, it’s harder because the anonymity is gone, I guess? I’m worried now that you know who I am–what I am–you’re gonna get bored of me?”

I didn’t laugh this time. His voice was thick and rapid as if he couldn’t hold back the word vomit, like he’d been holding it back for a while. My own throat felt thick, and I couldn’t contain the guilty feeling in my stomach. I rolled forward, wrapping my arms around his thin waist, feeling his hip bone press against mine sharply. I was careful not to look at his face–it’d shut him down for sure.

“Connor…I need you just as much as you need me, you know that right?” I whispered, trying too hard not to let him hear the panic in my voice.

“I know,” he rasped shallowly, sounding oddly wet. He was crying, I realized stupidly. My heart constricted in my chest, my stomach dropping. He was in pain and I had barely noticed. This was all my fault.

“And even if I didn’t need to vent, if I didn’t need your support, I’d still talk to you because I like you, Connor. You’re my friend. You’re a good person,” I whispered.

“Shut up.”

“You are,” I continued. “You’re a great person and you’re always looking after me, even when you’re hurt. I’m so sorry you’re hurting, Connor, I’m so sorry I didn’t notice–”

“I’m not hurting! Shut up!”

“Shhhh,” I hushed, sitting up to remind him to be quiet. “You’re parents are gonna–”

His face was red. His nose and lips were swollen, wet, and his cheeks, flecked with silver freckles glowing lightly in the moonlight beam he laid in, and there were tear tracks running from the corners of his eyes.

“Connor,” I cried softly, reaching up to wipe his cheek. “Please–”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he sobbed wetly, hands folding up to cover his face. “Just fucking get out, okay? This was a mistake.”

“Hey, hey,” I soothed frantically, reaching up to pet his hair, hoping that it might make him unfold himself. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong. I’m gonna help, Connor, whatever you need. I want to help you, please.”

“I’m not your responsibility, kid, okay? You can leave. Stop looking at me, Christ.”

“No,” I sighed. “Look, if you don’t wanna talk, that’s okay. That’s okay. Just, let me stay, okay? I’m not judging you, I’m not gonna leave, I promise. I’m here for you. Let me be your friend.”

He shook underneath me, holding in sharp sobs. I wondered how long it’s been since he let himself fall apart like this, let himself have some kind of catharsis, let himself feel, period.

This relapse was good. It was under control. I was here. I had him.

“Okay,” he whispered finally, reaching up to tangle his hands in my hair. “Christ, just–don’t tell anyone, okay? Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “I’m not. I’m here, okay? You don’t have to talk.”

“Okay. Okay…thanks.”

I might have imagined it, as I lowered my head back to his chest, might have imagined in between the soft presses of his fingers as they moved in and out of my, might have imagined, just briefly, the feeling of his lips pressed against my hair.

———-

The next morning was awkward. My parents and siblings showed no knowledge of the fact I’d snuck out to see Connor last night–it wasn’t as if they weren’t aware we were friends, to my parents chagrin and the Murphys’ delight, but I didn’t need them to think we were involved in some sort of torrid tryst, especially one we weren’t even having.

I left a few hours after Connor had slowly ceased his wet and much needed lament and his breathing had turned into a soft snore. I untangled myself from his arms, and leaned back for awhile to watch him sleep, tried to ignore how angelic he looked, red faced and weepy with silver freckles glowing mutely in the patch of moonbeam.

I’d sent him a quick text to let him know I wanted to return before my parents woke up, let him know I’d be by the next day. Told him to  message me if he wanted to talk again.

Now I was waiting for my mother to finish grading my papers for the day so I could to see Connor, who didn’t have school today thanks to some silly teacher institute, lucky loser. The American school system was a joke, to be quite honest.

“You’re jumpy,” my mother noted, scribbling something in the margins of my paper without looking up at me.

“I was gonna ask if I could go over to the Murphy’s? I haven’t talked to Zoe in a long time,” I asked sheepishly, scratching at my arm.

“And Connor, hmm?” My mother hummed thoughtfully, giving a smirk to my workbook.

“Connor’s cool,” I said honestly, nonetheless feeling a guilty lump rise in my throat.

“He’s a good boy,” she mused. “He always helps me with groceries if he’s outside.”

“Which is never,” muttered one of the younger kids, earning a kick under the table from me. My mom just smiled softly.

“Go ahead, honey. Call if you’re going to be longer than an hour.”

I thanked her, nearly sprinting out the door, my twin braids slapping against my back as I skipped between the yards. Zoe was at the door before I knocked, leading me into the kitchen, announcing me loudly in a way that would’ve earned a talking to at my house.

Cynthia appeared in the doorway, looking radiant, albeit a bit tired. Her face smiled brightly at me.

“Honey! It’s so good to see you, it’s been so long since you’ve stayed for dinner–Larry, tell Connor she’s here!–Zoe’s missed you, you should stay the night, right Zoe?–Larry, call Connor–Would that be alright with your parents? Stay for dinner then stay the night? I can run out and rent some movies and snag a pizza–Larry!

Zoe just rolled her eyes, yanking me down the steps past her mother and into the basement. Her grip on my arm was vice like, almost painful and definitely excessive. Her pretty red hair blew up in my face, making the already dark room even harder to see through the haze of her auburn locks. She practically shoved me onto the couch, following me by slamming down beside me.

“Zoe–”

“I saw you last night.”

My pulse hammered in my throat, and I felt all the blood rush swiftly to my face, making me dizzy.

“What?”

“I saw you. I told Mom. I don’t think Dad–”

“What do you mean?” I gasped, throwing my hands between us. Zoe blinked rapidly.

“You and Connor. In the shed. Last night. Christ, it was only ten, you could’ve been sneaky about it–”

“Zoe, we didn’t do anything,” I pleaded. God, if the Murphys knew, they’d tell my parents–

“You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?” She sighed, pushing her hair back out of her eyes. “Whatever, okay? You don’t have to tell me, I don’t give a shit as long as you aren’t pregnant. Just–because you’re my friend, I want you to know some things. Are you gonna listen?”

I thought better than to argue with Zoe, so I nodded shyly.

“Look, I know you and Connor are friends. That’s fine, whatever. But you don’t see Connor at school. You don’t see Connor here, not really. Not what he’s like when you aren’t here.”

I felt my heart constrict. She was going to try to convince me to stop talking to Connor.

“He’s mean. You don’t think it’s weird you’re his only friend? He’s a bully. He’s lazy. He’s violent, Christ–he’s my brother, I love him. But you shouldn’t…you shouldn’t take him seriously, okay? One day his temper is gonna flip and you’re gonna be in his way.”

I blinked, stunned that Zoe would say something so slanderous about her own brother.

“I don’t understand,” I said softly, staring across at her. It was no wonder Connor was so upset, why he had to reach out to strangers on the Internet to vent. His own home was a war zone.

Zoe sighed heavily. “You aren’t at school. You don’t hear the rumors. You don’t see the things he does. If you wanna be friends, fine, but…be careful. I wouldn’t let him anywhere near your heart.”

I didn’t argue with Zoe–I thought better of it. So I just nodded.

“Thanks for, um. Thanks for the warning,” I said with a thick voice, struggling to maintain sincerity.

“You’re welcome,” she sighed. “Mom thinks you’re dating. She’s over the moon. It’s disgusting.”

“I thought you thought we were dating,” I pried, raising an eyebrow. Zoe rolled her eyes, hitting me with a deadpan expression.

“As if Connor could ever get someone like you. As if Connor could even feel something remotely close to love–I’m half convinced his chest is an icebox,” she laughed dryly.

“Talking about me, are we?”

We both spun, wide eyed to see Connor on the stairs, arms folded.

“No, go ahead, I’ll wait. I love hearing stories about myself. Tell me again Zoe about how I’m in love with her?” He hissed, making my face burn red in shame. I felt awful for letting Zoe talk about him that way–worse because Connor made it painful clear he didn’t reciprocate any feelings I might’ve had for him.

Wait. I didn’t have feelings. Connor was a friend. A good friend. A friend who needs me and who doesn’t deserve to be taken advantage of, not until he’s okay. Not ever.

“Never said that,” Zoe said with a smirk, rising from the couch gracefully. “But keep digging your grave, it’s fun to watch.”

“Fuck you,” he growled.

“Fuck you,” she grinned. “I’d love to watch your train wreck love admission, Titanic is on, and at least that story has a happy ending.”

Connor kept a white knuckled grip on the banister as she passed, as if holding in an urge to push her. He kept his blazing eyes downcast, and noted his pale cheeks were burning red.

“What’d she tell you?” He whispered once the door slammed.

“Nothing true,” I promised, leaning forward on the couch to make room for him, patting the seat beside me. “Nothing that changed my mind.”

His head snapped up, and I watched his expression go from rage to disbelief to awe before he descended the stairs, shaking. He stopped before the couch, as if scared to come near me, staring down in awe.

“What did my mom say to you?”

I shook my head. “Not much. She asked if I could spend the night. Only if you want me to, though.”

He laughed, but the smile didn’t quite reach his face. “Only if I want you to, Christ, where did I find you?”

“The Internet,” I reminded, earning another laugh.

“Of course I want you to,” he sighed, finally coming to sit beside me. “Of course I want–”

He cut himself off, surprising me, before slinging an arm around my shoulder. I stiffened, but eventually melted against him, reminding myself that it was just Connor.

“You wanna watch a movie? I hear they’re playing Titanic or something.”


——

It’s two am when I wake up, taking a quick mental assessment of where I am. There’s a soft blue glow burning my eyes, shining over what appears to be a nest of blankets piled roughly on the floor.

The Murphy’s basement, I realized with a jolt, I’m just at the Murphy’s.

I’m in a pair of Connor’s pajamas–Zoe’s clothes don’t quite fit me right–an oversized black shirt and a pair of sweats Cynthia brought down in a laundry hamper. My braids have long since come loose, the desperate curls tangling wildly around my head.

Beside me, Zoe is snoring, almost comically, every so often a nostril whistles in time to the soft sound of Dexter’s Lab playing on the tv.

There’s a hand, dangling just above my head. The pale fingers were curved artistically, the nails too short as if they’ve been bitten recently and the black nail polish chipped hopelessly. It’s attached to an arm, long and thin, almost angular, and up farther is a shoulder, bare, pressed against a red coffee stained couch.

Connor.

“You’re awake,” he whispered in a conspiratory voice, but when I sat up to make contact, there’s no sly smirk. He’s frowning. “You are having trouble sleeping.”

I shook my head. “Stop worrying about me, Connor.”

“No,” he rasped, sitting up on the couch. I avoided looking too long at his bare chest, but regardless indulged nonetheless.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” I noted, coming to sit by him on the couch. He immediately opened the blanket, giving me room to slide in beside him, before throwing it around both of us so we could settle back against the couch. His bare skin was warm, and I let him take both my hands between his, letting him rub my hands between his in an attempt at some warmth.

“Been thinking too much,” he sighed softly. “Don’t worry about it.”

I swallowed, beginning to feel the effects of sleeplessness and helplessness melt together in a fatal concoction.

“I can’t help if you don’t let me, Connor,” I reminded him, pressing closer. “Let me help. What are you thinking about?”

He leaned away, as if I’d burned him, dropping my hands into his lap and looking away, the thin muscle of his cheeks hollowing as he clenched his jaw. “Can’t say.”

“Connor,” I pleaded. “Please let me help. I want to. I’m begging.”

“No,” he growled. I felt tears beginning to build, to my own horror, behind my eyes.

“Connor, can you just–”

You.”

It was an explosion. We both froze, turning in horror to glance at Zoe, waiting to breathe until we heard the soft whistle of her nose again. I turned slowly, terrified back to Connor. His eyes were wide, and if I didn’t have my fingers wrapped around his knee, I swore he might try to run.

“Me?” I asked softly, careful not to wake Zoe. Connor pursed his lips, his jaw twitching nervously.

“Fuck, yes, you, just–shit, I didn’t wanna say that–”

I leaned away, watching Connor’s face contort farther.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered heatedly. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. You want me to go, right? I’m really sorry, Connor–”

“What?” He nearly yelled. “You think–fuck.”

His head ducked, to my great surprise, against my shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of my neck and, of all things, began to laugh.

“Connor–”

“You think–Christ, it’s like you aren’t even real. You think I’m mad at you?”

He pulled away, his face no longer red or swollen, just smiling softly at me, almost awe struck, and staring intently with his slate eyes.

“I…I’m not sure?” I whispered, but not feeling at all nervous when Connor snaked his hands gently up my arms again.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered suddenly, shocking me. “And you have no idea that you’re perfect. Christ.”

I frowned. “Connor. I don’t…I don’t think I understand.”

But he was still looking at me–eyes scanning slowly over my face, landing suddenlyhalf-lidded on my lips, and it suddenly all clicked into place. Why Zoe would warn me. Why Cynthia acted the way she did. Why Connor was so scared in the first place.

I remember Zoe saying how over the moon Mrs. Murphy was at the idea of Connor and I dating–because that meant Connor would have me. It meant Connor would be happy.

It meant I would have Connor.

It was like a sudden dam had broken open inside me, filling me with more revelations as Connor’s hands lifted to cup the back of my head, his eyes soft, scared, and asking as they met mine. I let a quick exhale before I surged forward, slamming out mouths together much too forcefully, and not at all enjoyably.

I laughed–much too loud–but Connor kept back to the task at hand, his eyes closed in concentration, swallowing my outburst and folding me against his (very, very bare) chest and kissing me deeper, slower. It was painfully obvious he didn’t know what he was doing, but so much about the kiss was still tender and important, warming me from my core outward until I was scratching to wind my arms around him, getting him as close to me as I possibly could, kissing back to make sure he knew how much I wanted this. How much I wanted him.

How much I needed him. Anything he needed, I’d give him. Now and forever and–

“If you two are gonna fuck, can you do it in the bathroom or something? I’m trying to sleep.”

Connor and I pulled apart–causing me to stumble backwards against the arm of the couch gracelessly and staring at Zoe as she rolled over with her back to us.

I dared a peek back at Connor, whose lips were pink and wet despite their dry skin splitting with the force of his wide, wide smile.  His eyes were glowing brightly, almost burning as he raked them over me. The flannel blanket was pooled behind his back where it had been wrapped around us, and he just simply opened his arms again, inviting me back. His pale chest–pock marked with freckles, clusters on his ribs–was striped with pink lines from where my fingers had raked in a desperate attempt to give him validation.

I crawled forward, pressing my face against his neck in a hazy attempt to bring my breathing back to a normal speed.

“You okay?” I asked, running my fingertips over his shoulders, fighting the urge to word vomit an unholy collection of questions about who and what we were. Connor Murphy, post kiss. Connor Murphy, still life, smiling with wet, swollen, bloody lips. Connor Murphy standing at the edge of happiness, jumps over the ledge.

He nodded against me, fighting with his own dark curls where they made an attempt to cloud my cheeks in an adoring way. Cute, I decided.

“Okay? I’m,” he sighed, laughing and wrapping his arms around me to squeeze tightly. “I’m…you have no idea.”

“Better than nudes?” I teased. He snorted, embarrassed.

“I’m positive. Although–”

I hit him.

“Okay, kidding! Jeez…” he pulled away, cupping my face lightly, pushing the hair back out of my eyes like I was a child. It felt fantastic, he was right, as I searched through the galaxies in his eyes, his pale skin illuminated by the hazy blue glow of the television. It felt so far past amazing, being held like I was the only person he knew how to see. He cleared his throat, and I saw his eyes were brimming with an emotion I couldn’t name.

“You, uh,” he laughed nervously under his breath. “You have to know I love you.”

It was a startling blow, knocking all the air out of me and forced a bubbling laugh to fly out of my lungs. Connor’s smile wavered slightly, so I popped up to press a soft kiss to the cleft of his chin.

“I know,” I sighed, giddy with the realization it was true. “I know. And you know I trust you more than anyone. You know I love you.”

It was like watching him crack open, the way all the uncertainty was cleared from his face, a wave of joy and triumph.

“You love me?” He asked so softly, so awestruck, I felt my heart shake in my chest. I’d barely started to nod before he surged forward to kiss me again, small and chaste pecks across my face and neck, the bridge of my nose, my temples.

He was okay. We were okay. We were going to be just fine.

SECRETS MASTERLIST

i think we’re all tired of having our characters have the same dirty little secrets. so here are some realistic secrets you can use for your characters. i am putting an overall trigger and mature warning on this. they’re in the sections of: lighthearted, hardcore, family, involving others, criminal, embarrassing, sexual, romantic, and other..

scared your secret isn’t creative - change it up! it mentions drugs? change it to sex or alcohol. something mentions family? turn that into a romantic secret! the options are endless if you change details.

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